Gone but not forgotten

They came in the dead of night.  I saw their head torches; heard their shouts.  I don’t know what his crime was nor who had made the call to snitch but I knew he was one of the good ones. 

I remember him from when I was young.  I was always slightly scared of him – his towering stature and steadfast authority.  I was too young, then, to understand the shelter and comfort he gave. How he used his power to benefit others. 

I hope he didn’t go quietly.  

I hope he managed to inflicted a few blows as he fell. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Word count = 100

This week’s offering for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less based on a fabulous photo prompt. Click the link to read the other submissions.